Harry Potter and the Holyhead Harem
by Big D on a Diet
Summary: PostHBP. HarryMany After Dumbledore's murder, Harry begins to walk his own path, and finds a destiny greater than he ever imagined.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and the Holyhead Harem 1

by Big D

Disclaimer: Not Mine. No Profit. No Shit.

I woke up.

That was it. No gradual gathering of awareness, or sleepy head-shaking. One moment I was sound asleep, the next I was awake and totally aware of my surroundings.

Not that there was much to be aware of.

The smallest bedroom at Number Four Privet Drive wasn't much prettier in the daylight than it was now, shadow-filled and barren of anything remotely homely or familiar. I sat up in the small bed, scratching at the place on my side where a spring had pushed through the thin mattress and left a mark on my skin. It was too dark to see the clock next to my bed, so I picked it up and tilted it towards the moonlight streaming in through the window.

12:03

I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. Seventeen years old. There were times, too many times, when I had thought that I'd never make it. I glanced out the window, and for a split second saw a mist-shrouded graveyard. Shaking my head to clear the bad memories before they ganged up on me, I snatched my wand off the bedside table and stood up. The eleven inches of holly in my right hand felt more real, more solid, than it ever had before. For the first time it felt like it really belonged to me. Over the last six years, it had been out of arm's reach only a handful of times, but the restrictions placed on me because of my age had always left me with the nagging feeling that it could be taken away at any moment.

There was almost nothing in the room that I cared to take with me. This room had always felt more like storage locker than a home. Just a place to keep my things until it was time to move on.

That time was now.

I dressed quickly, my movements business-like and efficient. I kicked open the lid of my trunk and tossed a few odds and ends inside. The over-large trousers I was wearing kept trying to slip down my backside, and I habitually adjusted them several times before the thought that I was free to use my magic penetrated. A few seconds and a mumbled incantation later, Dudley's castoffs had been transfigured into something that actually fit. The incantation threatened to bring on another set of bad memories, this time of my failure to learn silent spellcasting, which would naturally lead to thoughts of Snape, and his final "lesson". I cut that train of thought off at the pass. There would be plenty of time for Snape later, a lifetime if need be. If that's what it took to find him and make him answer for every crime he'd ever committed, then that was a road I was prepared to walk.

But not now... not yet. Voldemort had to come first.

Ron and Hermione would be beside themselves when they found out that I intended to search for the missing horcruxes without them, but it was for the best. The search was bound to be more dangerous than anything the three of us had ever done before, and they didn't even have the ever-so-slight protection the prophecy had bestowed on me. Not that I had any intention of relying on that.

A tap of my wand and the trunk was small enough to slip into my jacket pocket. The miniaturized Firebolt went into the other side, and I was ready to leave. I was halfway down the stairs before I stopped and glanced back over my shoulder, towards the rooms where my relatives were still sleeping.

It would be so easy to march back up the stairs and teach them a lesson about mistreating a wizard, but two things stopped me. One, there was no point. The three of them were too stupid to actually learn from their mistakes, so anything I did to them would only be for my own amusement. And however tempting that was, I just didn't have the time. The second thing was Dumbledore. I had only come back here in order to honor his wish that I spend my last Hogwarts summer in my family's home, and it seemed in somewhat poor taste to finish that stay by transfiguring them into assorted barnyard animals on my way out.

I didn't see any point in leaving a note, the Dursleys wouldn't care anyway. I never intended to set foot in this house again, but if they thought that I might pop back in at any time, it would make them more apt to look over their shoulders occasionally. Poor revenge for fifteen and a half years of neglect, but sometimes you took what you could get.

My hand wrapped around the front door knob, and I hesitated again. I looked back and caught sight of the slatted door that led to the cupboard under the stairs, my home for more than eight years. There was a part of me that still, and always would, think of it as _my_ cupboard. It was the part of me that had been trained to believe the lies that my aunt and uncle had told me. That part had grown smaller in the years since I'd received my Hogwarts letter, but it had never truly gone away. I could feel it whispering in my ear, telling me that if I just got back in the cupboard and stayed as quiet as possible, then Voldemort and my rapidly approaching destiny would never be able to find me.

The decision took only a fraction of a second. I could never be quiet enough that Voldemort would stop coming, not alive anyway. I turned the knob and walked out into the cool English night, leaving Number Four behind forever.

I was halfway to the park on Magnolia Road before I realized that I was going the wrong way. I'd meant to go south, towards the local rail station, but had somehow found myself angling to the northwest, in the totally opposite direction. I stopped suddenly and heard the soft scuff of a shoe behind me.

I threw myself to my right and chanted the stunning spell as I rolled to my feet. The magic coalesced into a vibrant red glow at the tip of my wand, before streaking in the direction of my unseen stalker. I heard a grunted expulsion of breath and the sound of a body hidden under an invisibility cloak drop to the ground, but didn't stop to see who I'd hit. The house I had been passing had a low brick wall surrounding it, and I quickly vaulted it, taking cover behind the firm stone and listening for anyone else who might be out there.

In the distance, a dog barked at some half-seen thing, but no other noise reached my ears. No sign of any other person following me. The minutes stretched out and still I heard nothing, but if someone _was_ out there, then they could better afford to wait than I could. The person lying on the pavement wouldn't stay stunned forever, and if they did have an accomplice, then that person knew exactly where I was. As quietly as possible, I moved along the wall until I was about thirty feet from where I had been, then stopped and listened again... still nothing.

I couldn't help but get a mental image of being a human Wack-A-Mole as I popped up from behind the wall and scanned the street, wand swinging one way, then the other. Magnolia Road was deserted, other than the seemingly disembodied black boot lying on the pavement. I didn't take any chances.

"Accio invisibility cloak." I whispered.

There was a flash of silver in the night, and the rest of the person lying on the pavement was revealed. I snatched the flying cloak out of the air with my left hand and held it behind me so that it wouldn't interfere with my aim. The person I'd stunned was a woman, dressed all in black, with shoulder-length black hair tied into a short tail. I advanced on her, wand at the ready, and nudged her onto her back with one foot. She moaned fitfully, beginning to recover from the spell. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with a pretty, sculpted face that seemed rather familiar.

Her eyes blinked open and she looked up at me. She gave a start when she realized that my wand was pointing directly at her face, but I didn't lower it. She quickly held up both hands to show me that she wasn't holding anything.

"Whoa, Harry." she said hastily, "It's okay, I'm not a Death Eater."

I frowned at her in annoyance. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to take your word for it, won't I?" I said dryly.

"You don't remember me?" she asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice, "I came to your house with Mad-Eye a couple of years ago to escort you to the Order's headquarters."

Now I knew why she looked so familiar. "Hestia, right?" I asked, "Hestia Jones."

She grinned at me. "That's it. Now that we're best friends again, do you mind not pointing that thing at me?"

I chuckled, but still didn't lower my wand. Hestia frowned to herself and propped herself up on her elbows. "So are we going to stay here all night like this, or is it okay if I stand up?" she asked.

"Where's your wand?" I asked.

Her lips pulled back up into a suggestive smile. "Wouldn't you like to know."

She cut me off before I could respond, sitting up cross-legged and reaching carefully into her sleeve with two fingers. It was too dark to tell what kind of wood the wand she produced was made out of, but it looked to be about nine inches long. She held it out towards me, but I nodded at the ground. Hestia laid her wand on the pavement and flicked it with her index finger, so that it rolled over and bounced against my trainer.

I couldn't help but smile. She had spunk.

"Now that you have me all helpless and at your mercy, what are you going to do with me?" she asked, her smile turning even more suggestive.

"I'm probably going to put you in a full-body bind and leave you in that dustbin over there." I told her, nodding at the large metal container near the edge of the park. "Pick-up's on Tuesday, you should be fine until then."

The flirty smile melted into more of a pained grimace. Unsurprising, as today was Sunday.

"There's no need for all of that." she said.

"Why were you following me?" I asked her.

She gave a little shrug. "What else was I supposed to do? I mean, isn't that what the Order of the Phoenix is for? To keep you alive so you can fight You-Know-Who?"

I frowned at her. "The Order sent you?"

She looked down at her lap and examined her fingernails. It was hard to tell in the dark, but I thought she might be blushing. "Not really. The Order isn't doing much of anything these days." She sounded somewhat embarrassed by that, and more than a little irritated. "Ever since Dumbledore was killed, all they do is sit around and argue. They can't even decide who should lead the Order now that he's gone."

"If they didn't send you, why are you here?" I asked.

Apparently, she had decided that I wasn't going to start hexing her at the drop of a hat, because she picked herself up off the ground and went over to lean against the wall that I'd hidden behind before. I still kept my wand on her, but I was almost certain that she wasn't a Death Eater in disguise. I was about to repeat the question when she finally spoke.

"If I wanted to sit on my bum uselessly and talk about what should be done, while the world goes to Hades all around me, I would've joined the Ministry of Magic." she said derisively. "I joined the Order because I thought I would get a chance to make a real difference. But now it's got all the direction of a rubber duck in a whirlpool." She looked back up at me. "I wasn't senior enough to know all of what was going on, but everyone in the Order knows that you're the key to beating You-Know-Who, or at least that Dumbledore believed you were. So I came here to make sure that no big mean nasties got a hold of you." She smiled ruefully. "Right proper job I made of it, too. Getting knocked out by the person I was supposed to be protecting won't look good on the old resume, that's for sure."

I lowered my wand, then bent over to pick hers up. Hestia's wand was surprisingly heavy and sturdy-feeling... mahogany, perhaps. She deftly snatched it out of mid-air when I tossed it back to her and tucked it back into her sleeve in one smooth motion.

"Thanks. So what happens now?" she asked.

"Now... you go your way, and I go mine." I told her, before turning and going back the way I came.

"Harry, wait." she called out.

I stopped and turned back to her. She walked over to me and laid a hand on my shoulder. "Look, maybe the Order didn't send me, but I did come here to help you. Will you at least give me a chance?"

I cocked my head at her. "What are you going to do, help me run away from home?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "If all you're doing is running away from home, then I'll eat my wand. You're going after... him, and I want to help." She gave an embarrassed grimace. "I know that I didn't make much of an impression, what with getting stunned and all, but an extra set of eyes to watch your back could come in handy."

I couldn't argue with her about that, and it was a tempting offer. But Dumbledore had entrusted me with knowledge that couldn't be allowed to spread farther than it already had. If Voldemort even suspected that I was after his horcruxes, then he would come down on me, and anyone who was with me, like a hurricane. I didn't think that Hestia would betray me on purpose, but it might happen by accident. And it would definitely happen if Voldemort ever captured her and put her to the question.

She must've seen the answer in my eyes, because she spoke up before I got a chance to turn her down. "What if I swore the Unbreakable Vow to follow any order you gave?"

I couldn't help but gape at her. "Why would you do that?" I asked when I finally found my tongue.

Her eyes flickered up and down, taking me in, measuring me. "Because I believe in you." she said softly, "And because I'd never forgive myself if I let you go off alone, and you got yourself killed." She let out a soft laugh. "Come on, kid, don't make me beg. I'd think that any red-blooded wizard your age would jump at the chance to have a good-looking, older witch at his beck and call."

I felt a flush in my cheeks at that, and hoped it was too dark for her to see. The amused glint in her eyes told me it was a false hope. And she was right, I would need help. The horcrux in the cave had been all but impossible for one person, even Dumbledore himself, to reach alone. What if the traps around the others were just as bad, or worse. I acted before I had a chance to change my mind, taking her hand in mine, and laying my wand so that it touched both.

"Do you swear to follow any order I give, without question, even if it costs you your own life?"

Her hand trembled slightly in mine, but her voice was steady and clear. "I do." A jet of light, like living fire, leapt from the tip of my wand, and wrapped itself around our joined hands. I felt only a subtle change, a slight awareness that told me that the Vow had been established. It was like a tiny, invisible thread joining me to Hestia, one that, as the bonder, only I could sever. I let go of her hand and she stepped back, rubbing her arms as if she felt a sudden chill. I couldn't help but wonder what she felt when the Vow took hold of her, but decided it wasn't worth asking about.

A somewhat uncomfortable silence stretched between us, but there didn't seem to be much to say. It wasn't everyday that someone swore fealty to me, and I'd need some time to adjust. For her part, Hestia looked as if she was having second thoughts of her own. She fell in alongside me as I turned and began to walk towards the rail station again, and only spoke after I'd tucked my wand into my back pocket.

"You know, that's a good way to lose a buttock."

"So I hear."

"Be a shame to break up such a pretty pair."

"What can I say, I like to live dangerously."

She laughed and playfully bumped me with her hip. "I think we're going to get along just fine." she said with a smile.

"Maybe." I agreed, "But I highly suspect that you're going to regret tying yourself to me when you find out what this is all about."

"Care to tell me now?"

"Not yet... even this place might have ears."

She went silent for a few minutes, but spoke up again as we crossed Wisteria Walk. "So where are we going?"

"Train station."

"You-Know-Who's hiding at the train station?"

"Not as far as I know."

"So why are we going there?"

"To catch a train."

"Apperation's faster."

"And trackable. Better to wait until we're farther away, where we can blend in with other wizards."

"Makes sense. So where's the train going?"

"First London, and then to Wales. I need to pick up a few things in Diagon Alley, and I want to make a quick side trip to Anglesey before I turn my attention to Voldemort."

She flinched slightly at the name, but didn't break stride. "What's in Anglesey?" she asked after a moment.

I didn't answer right away. Some things I'll never be comfortable talking about. But Hestia had shown an incredible amount of faith in me so far, and there was no reason not to tell her. "My parent's graves."

She didn't say anything, but I felt her hand slip into mine and squeeze reassuringly. She didn't let go, so we continued to walk, hand in hand. It felt nice, having someone with me, but I couldn't help but think of all the ways she could get herself killed just by being near me. A vision of Dumbledore, begging me to kill him after drinking the brew from the cave, passed in front of my eyes, and I wondered if Hestia would ever look at me like that.

Even if she did, it wouldn't change anything. I was going to stop Voldemort and his Death Eaters, whatever it took. People would die, that couldn't be stopped, but at least they wouldn't have to die for nothing.

And after Voldemort... Snape. I would scour the earth for him if that's what it took, and once I found him, _he_ would be the one begging for his life.

END


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and the Holyhead Harem 2

By Big D

Disclaimer: Not Mine. No Profit. No Shit.

Green fields and the occasional stand of trees sped by the window to my right as the train chugged its way through the English countryside towards the Welsh border, about an hour away. It had been sheer luck that we'd found a direct line from London to Bangor, and I expected to arrive just past nightfall. After that, it would just be a matter of crossing the bridge to Anglesey Island and then making our way to Holy Island. Godric's Hollow had been on the outskirts of Holyhead, and my parents had been buried there at St. Cybi's. From what I'd read, the church had been there for a thousand years or more, so it shouldn't be too hard to find.

I shifted in my seat, trying to get more comfortable, and my arm brushed against a long, wrapped bundle on the seat next to me. London had been full of surprises, not the least of which was learning that Dumbledore had named me one of the heirs in his will. Thankfully, he hadn't bothered leaving me another big pile of gold that I wouldn't know what to do with, although what he had left me with was nearly as bad.

I pulled the long bundle into my lap, and undid the laces at the top just enough to reveal the ruby-mounted hilt of a sword... Gryffindor's sword. What he expected me to do with it was anyone's guess, but he had thought it important enough to specifically mention it in the will, and insist that it be wrapped up and ready for me to take as soon as I'd signed for the total inheritance. The rest of it had consisted of everything that had been left behind in his office, and a second bundle, to be given to me along with the sword. I didn't doubt that everything he'd left me would turn out to be very useful, but it felt too much like he was laying his hand on my shoulder, and saying that it was all up to me now.

Which was true, but being reminded of it was no comfort.

All of the tools, machines, and assorted knick-knacks from his office had been moved into my vault. His pensieve and stored memories were also in there somewhere, but I wasn't ready to look through them yet. There would be time for that someday, but not now. And if something happened to me, I'd already made arrangements that the entire collection would go to Hermione. She'd stand a better chance of deciphering it than I ever would.

The second bundle was in a knapsack in the overhead compartment. I hadn't opened it yet, and wasn't sure I wanted to. The Gringotts goblins had brought it in on a rolling table, and when I had picked it up I'd realized why they hadn't wanted to touch it. The thing practically throbbed with magical power. It was obviously a book of some kind, about the size of a large bible, but like nothing I'd ever encountered before.

At Hogwarts, I'd dealt with my fair share of enchanted tomes, but none of them had been so strong that they'd nearly burned my fingers when I'd picked them up! The thing scared me a little, and scared me more for the fact that Dumbledore had thought that I would actually need something so awesomely powerful.

I set the sword aside and looked across the compartment at Hestia. She had stretched out along the seats on her side, and was leafing through some magazine with a woman wearing a red dress and an overly-enthusiastic smile on the cover. By the time we'd gotten to London, lack of sleep had caught up to me, and I'd barely made it to my room at the Leaky Cauldron before I'd passed out. I still hadn't gotten around to explaining to her exactly how I planned to stop Voldemort, and so far she hadn't pushed the issue. The hours after I finally woke up were a whirlwind of activity, and between dealing with the goblins, getting some shopping done, and avoiding notice by the general public, there had hardly been time to breathe.

"Are you sure you want to come with me?" I asked her suddenly.

She let out a put-upon sigh, and sat up to face me. "For the tenth time, yes." she said, "I can't think of anywhere more important for me to be." She made a show of lifting her arm and sniffing her armpit. "Nope, don't stink. So why are you trying to run me off? Am I bad company? Not pretty enough? What?"

I rolled my eyes at her even while a grin tugged at my lips. "You're fine company, and you're very pretty." I assured her. "It's just that, when you find out what I'm up to, you won't be able to leave. You'll either help me stop Voldemort, or you'll get killed, there is no other option. I can still release you from your Vow, if you want."

"I don't want you to release me from my Vow. I wouldn't have given it if I didn't mean to keep it. Of course, if you really want me to go, all you have to do is say the word... literally."

She watched me for a moment, waiting to see if I was going to take her up on her suggestion, before nodding to herself in satisfaction. "Now that that's settled, maybe you can finally let me in on the big secret. How are the two of us supposed to kill You-Know-Who?"

I doubted that I would find a more secure place to tell her. A muggle train to Wales was probably the last place most wizards would think to look for someone, and even if they did think of it, the fact that the train was moving would disperse any listening charms from the outside. The compartment had already been warded for sound, and Hestia had placed a muggle-repelling charm on the door.

So I told her. I told her about the private lessons with Dumbledore and his revelations about Voldemort's past. I told her about how he'd taken me to the cave where Voldemort had hidden one of the Horcruxes, and how he'd been so weak from drinking the potion inside that he hadn't stood a chance when Snape had finally betrayed him. I told her about the three still-missing Horcruxes and what Dumbledore had deduced about them. And I finished with a firm order that she was never to discuss any of it, except with me and anyone I allowed her to. There was no turning back now, she was tied to me until the end.

Afterwards, she was uncharacteristically silent. "So what do you think?" I asked.

Light brown eyes flicked up to meet mine. I could see nothing but honest truth in them. "I think we're buggered." she said.

I snorted. "Nice to know you have so much faith in me."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I have faith in you," she said. "It's just... Dumbledore spent a couple of decades looking, and even with all the resources at his disposal, he was only able to find and destroy one Horcrux. And even then it nearly cost him his hand. There are still three of those things out there... where are we supposed to even start? You-Know-Who might've hidden them in places that had special meaning for him, or he could've put them where no one would ever think to look. There's no way to know."

"Professor Dumbledore seemed to think that Voldemort's past was the key to figuring out where the other Horcruxes are. It could be that they work best in places that mean something to him. After all, they are pieces of his soul." I said.

"That seems rather... convenient, don't you think? Besides, the diary wasn't hidden in some secret place, where only You-Know-Who could get at it." she said.

"Yeah, but the diary was also much easier to destroy than the ring was. What if not being hidden in a special place had weakened it?"

She quirked an amused eyebrow at me. "You call fighting a hundred foot long basilisk, and getting bitten in the process, easy? I'd hate to see what you think of as challenging."

"Dumbledore could've handled it easily enough." I told her.

She frowned at me slightly, but decided to change the subject. "What about this R.A.B. wanker? Any idea who he is?"

"Not a clue. Voldemort spent a lot of time traveling after he left Hogwarts, he could've made all kinds of enemies that we don't know about. Or it could be someone he wronged during the war."

"So what do you think happened to the real locket?" she asked.

I didn't answer right away. That question had been gnawing at me ever since I'd found out that someone had gotten to the original locket first. "We have to assume it's still out there. R.A.B. said that he was going to destroy it, but anything could have happened after that. He could've been as weak as Dumbledore was after escaping the cave. He might have died before he had a chance, or been killed trying."

There was a soft _click, click_ as Hestia tapped a fingernail against the armrest thoughtfully. "So that makes three for sure." she said, "Hufflepuff's cup, something of Gryffindor's, and something of Ravenclaw's. And maybe another, if R.A.B. couldn't get the job done with Slytherin's locket. So, four Horcruxes we have to destroy before we can even hope to face him directly." She sat back in her seat and sighed. "Like I said, we're buggered."

"What we really need to do is find out if anything that belonged to Gryffindor or Ravenclaw is still around." I said, ignoring her pessimism.

"You mean aside from your pretty new pigsticker?" she said, indicating the bundle on the seat next to me. She frowned in thought for a moment. "Now that I think about it, a really powerful book would be just the kind of thing Lady Ravenclaw might leave behind, and the Headmaster also left you one of those."

I picked up the sword bundle again. Standing up, I undid the laces and pulled off the leather wrappings. The scabbard was plain unadorned black, and obviously wasn't original, but the sword itself was made from some type of silvery metal that seemed to shine more brightly than the ambient light should allow. There was a ruby the size of a hen's egg set into the hilt, and two more, about the size of small coins, at either end of the crossguard. It seemed larger than I recalled, but was clearly meant to be wielded with one hand. It let out a satisfying "_shink"_ as I drew it free. The thin, tapered blade with "Gryffindor" etched into it was the same as I remembered.

"I don't think so. Professor Dumbledore was pretty sure that Voldemort had never gotten his hands on the sword." I said. As for the book, I still didn't want to think about it.

Hestia gave the weapon in my hand a doubtful look, and edged away slightly. "Just don't start swinging the bloody thing around in here. I like both of my eyes where they are, thank you."

I was about to respond when I noticed something odd about the rubies in the hilt. They seemed to be brighter than before. "Do you see that?" I asked her, showing her the jewels. "I think they're glowing."

"It's a wonky magic sword, who knows what kind of special effects it has." she shrugged.

Over the rhythmic thump and rattle of the train, I noticed a sound off in the distance, like a high-pitched wail. "You hear that?" I asked her.

She stopped and listened, then shook her head slightly. "Hear what? I don't hear anything."

"It sounds like..." The noise grew louder, and I felt a chill go through me. "It sounds like a woman screaming."

Hestia opened her mouth to speak, but I was already moving. I didn't want to leave the sword on the seat where anyone could take it, so I shoved it into my belt as I left the compartment. In the hallway, I listened again, trying to determine which direction the scream was coming from, before running towards the back of the train. I hardly even noticed the people I was bumping into and knocking down.

By the time I'd reached the last car, my mother's final scream was echoing in my ears. One look out the rear window confirmed my worst fears. I felt Hestia come up behind me and look over my shoulder.

"Sweet mother of heaven," she whispered, a hint of Irish brogue that I hadn't noticed before creeping into her voice, "There must be two hundred of them, maybe more."

The dementors were probably still a half-mile behind us, but there were so many of them that they looked like a single mass of writhing black flesh. And they were gaining on us, fast.

I quickly weighed my options and found them decidedly lacking. The shrunken Firebolt was still in my pocket. I could pull a hundred and sixty miles an hour out of it with a decent wind at my back, but that would be cut considerably if I had to double up with Hestia. Not to mention the fact that it would leave the muggles on the train completely helpless if some of the dementors chose not to follow me. That pretty much left fighting as the only viable choice, and I wouldn't have time to make more than the most basic plan.

Which, now that I think about it, was more of a plan than I usually had.

I looked around the carriage and spotted a hatch in the ceiling that led outside. I whipped out my wand and fired a Reductor Curse, blowing it off its hinges. The few muggles in the back carriage watched slack-jawed, but I ignored them. If any of them survived this with their souls intact, the Ministry would make sure they didn't remember it.

"Give me a boost." I told Hestia. To her credit, she didn't ask questions. She positioned herself underneath the hatch and made a stirrup with her hands. I stepped into it and she was able to pick me up enough so that I could grab the rim of the opening and haul myself up the rest of the way.

The wind outside was strong, but not so much that it would knock me off easily. I got on my hands and knees and looked back into the carriage. Hestia held out her hand so that I could pull her up with me, but I shook her off. "Go to the front and get them to speed up as much as they can. I'll try to keep the Dementors off of us." I shouted down at her. She looked like she wanted to argue, but the Vow forced her to obey.

"Don't get yourself killed!" she yelled over her shoulder as she moved off.

"Good advice." I muttered, then pushed myself to my feet.

The train rumbled and rattled beneath me, but it was nothing compared to balancing on a broom. The dementors had closed to within about a hundred and fifty yards and had spread out somewhat. I cursed under my breath. That was the last thing I wanted them to do. So long as they were together, then I stood a slim chance of turning them back. Spread out, they would be able to swarm the train from multiple directions, and I'd be fucked. My best chance was to cast my Patronus now, while I still had a shot of catching them in a group.

"Expecto Patronum!" I yelled. A massive stag made of the purest white light imaginable leapt from my wand and charged into the heart of the oncoming monsters. Prongs crashed into the center of the mass, swinging his horns from one side to the other like a great scythe, trying to scatter the beasts.

It only worked for a moment. The dementors shifted away from Prongs like a school of fish avoiding a shark, but soon regrouped and continued chasing the train. Prongs rounded on them again and charged, but it was too late. Some of the dementors had gotten between him and the train and the others were running interference, delaying him from getting back. A flash of fluttering black cloth in the corner of my eye alerted me to a dementor trying to get into the cabin through a window that some foolish muggle had left open. I moved towards it and fired a stunner, but the spell passed through the creature like it was smoke.

It yanked its head out of the window and glared up at me, hissing angrily before launching itself at my face. I tried to dodge, but my foot caught on something and I tripped. I grabbed the side of the roof to keep from falling off, but dropped my wand in the process. It clattered across the roof of the train and I made a desperate grab for it, but the dementor was quicker. Long, bony hands covered in rotten meat snatched up the holly rod and snapped it like a twig.

I felt my heart stop. I didn't have to look back to know that the magic that held my Patronus together had been violently dispersed, leaving me totally helpless.

The dementor tossed the useless fragments of my wand over the side. It looked down at me, and even though I couldn't see beneath its hood, I could feel the smug smirk on its horrid face. It knew that it had me, and that I could do nothing to stop it. Slowly, almost arrogantly, it settled over me and breathed in deeply.

I gasped as what little warmth left in me was violently drawn out. The dementor breathed in again and my heart felt like it was being sucked through of my ribcage. I tried to get up, but my trembling arms wouldn't support me. My vision began to grow hazy as I rolled onto my stomach and tried to crawl away from a fate worse than death. There was something trapped underneath me, digging into my side. I reached down to move it, and when my fingers brushed against it a wave of warmth shot up my arm.

The sword!

I grasped the hilt and felt a cleansing fire fill my veins as my strength returned. The dementor above me make an curious hissing noise and halted its advance, but I didn't wait for it to figure out what had happened. With unnatural skill, I vaulted to my feet and drew the sword in one smooth motion. This time, it wasn't just reflecting too much light, it was actually glowing brightly enough to notice, even in daylight. Oddly, the powerful silvery light didn't affect my eyes, but it did cause the dementor to flinch away and cover its face. I didn't let it get far, dropping into a perfect fencer's stance and stabbing the foul thing directly in the heart.

White fire erupted from the wound and it howled in absolute agony, a sound like broken glass and needles being shoved into my ears. It pulled away from me, trying to put out the flames with its hands, but every part of the creature that the fire touched instantly became engulfed as well. In a matter of seconds, the dementor had been reduced to greasy black ashes that were rapidly blown away by the wind.

I stared, wide-eyed and amazed, before remembering that there were still many more dementors. When I raised my head, I realized that, they too, were staring at what had happened in disbelief. For a few brief seconds, the rattle of the train was the only sound, as I looked at them and they looked back at me, neither of us really understanding what had just occurred. It was hard to read the dementors, but something about the way they held themselves told me that, maybe for the first time ever, they were truly afraid of something. It didn't last long. A ripple seemed to go through the assembled monsters, and fear was abruptly replaced by a new emotion.

Rage.

They howled like rabid dogs and rushed at me in a seething mass. Again calling on skills I'd never had before, I settled into a defensive stance; sword held out before me and weight resting lightly on the balls of my feet. Four of them reached me at the same time, and I whipped Gryffindor's sword around and over my head before swinging it in a great arc that decapitated the first wave. I continued the momentum of the slash, spinning around to slay another dementor who was following on their heals, then reversed the blade to stab one more who had tried to sneak up behind me.

Time and thought melted away, until all that was left was instinct. The instinct to fight, to survive. Again and again, the dementors threw themselves against me, and each time they were turned back by a flashing blade and gouts of pure white flame. They tried to circle around me, but I continued to back up the length of the train, until I found myself standing on top of the lead car, with nowhere left to go. Gryffindor's sword thrummed in my hand, filled with seemingly limitless power, but the arm that held it was beginning to tremble with fatigue. My mouth had gone dry from exertion, and my breath was coming out in raw, ragged gasps.

I cast my eyes out at the remaining dementors and cursed. I must have killed fifty or sixty of them, but there were still more than a hundred left over. They knew that I was tiring, and moved as if with one mind, streaking in and backing off before they got too close, feinting, trying to wear me down before they closed in for the kill.

My mind raced, but I couldn't see any way out. It was a death trap, and the jaws were ready to come crashing down on me. Oddly, I felt a sudden calm come over me at that realization. If I really was going to die, then there was hardly a better way to go out than this, facing down impossible odds against an nightmare enemy, in order to protect dozens of innocent people in the service of a noble cause. It was a good kind of death, a true Gryffindor death. I felt a feral grin slide cross my lips, baring my teeth. If it was going to be a fight to the finish, then so be it... but it wasn't going to be on their terms, and I sure as hell wasn't going to be the only one to die.

I gathered my strength, preparing to rush at the swarm of dementors, and cut down as many of them as possible before the end, but just before I did, I felt a shift in the energy that was streaming from the sword. Before, it had been hugely powerful, but alien to me, like the feeling I had gotten at Ollivander's shop before I came to Hogwarts, when I had tried to use wands that weren't meant for me. Now the thrum of power began to resonate and build, touching something inside of me and joining with it like two drops of water coming together. It was as if the sword became a part of me, it's power becoming my power. I glanced down at it in confusion and saw the rubies in the hilt darken into vivid green emeralds. The blade was no longer etched with the name "Gryffindor", but rather had changed to a stylized "Potter". I didn't know how I knew what to do, but I took the sword, no longer belonging to Godric Gryffindor, but now fully mine, in both hands, and raised it to the sky.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" I roared.

The entire world was annihilated by white light. Over the sound of the train and the wind rushing through my ears I could hear high-pitched, tormented screams, like the sound of a million souls roasting in the fires of hell. The smell of burning, rancid meat assaulted my nose as the power of the sword reached out to wash away the unnatural monstrosities. I could feel it, like a living thing, hunting them down and scouring them from the face of existence. The power built to a crescendo and began to fade, it's work finished.

Suddenly, the ground was jerked out from beneath my feet. I felt myself sail through the air and the back of my head came crashing down onto something that didn't give an inch. More white light filled my vision, but there was nothing magical about it this time. Vaguely, I was aware of flipping over backwards and tumbling head over heels, my limbs flying in every direction, until I landed face down in a heap.

Darkness rushed out to meet me, and I gladly welcomed it.


End file.
